


Leaving Yesterday

by Arokel



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Bahorel's dogs, Break Up, Character Death, Growing Apart, I'm going to make this a thing, M/M, Minor Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:50:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1993971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arokel/pseuds/Arokel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re facebook friends. They send each other Christmas cards.</p><p>Or: the realities of growing up and growing apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Kind of a Sort of Cost

In retrospect, he should have seen it coming, shouldn't have been so surprised when it happened. He always knew Enjolras was destined for great things, and for a few blissful years, he allowed himself to believe that he could be a part of those great things. But the truth has a way of seeping into your consciousness even without you knowing it, in the form of doubts that Grantaire pushed out of his mind, convincing himself it was just his old self-esteem issues rearing their heads again.

So even though he didn't expect it, somehow once it happens it seems as if everything for the past three years has been leading up to it.

“I think we should break up.”

Grantaire nods. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Enjolras sounds hurt, which is funny, because Grantaire is the injured party here. “You’re not even going to ask me why?”

Grantaire smiles. “Your career. I know what’s more important to you, and it’s not me.” It’s amazing, he muses, that he doesn’t feel any bitterness.

“That’s not true!”

“I know you, Enjolras. You’re going to fly high, and you won’t need me by your side. I’m glad for the time I had with you, but I don’t need to pretend that that it’s going to last.”

“Grantaire, I promise – I promise I’ll – It’ll only be until everything dies down, until everything’s settled, and then I promise, I promise, I’ll come back. I’ll come back to you, Grantaire, I promise, please believe me.”

Grantaire smiles gently. “You know I believe in you, Apollo.”

For the first time, it’s a lie.

* * *

And Enjolras does. Fly high, that is. And Grantaire watches him on the news, rising through the political ranks steadily, shining brighter and brighter even as the lines on his face begin to deepen and his golden hair begins to lose some of its radiance.

Grantaire is rising too, he supposes. Suddenly galleries are clamoring to display his works and he’s being interviewed by all sorts of papers and magazines. He wonders if Enjolras follows his career the way Grantaire follows his. Probably not.

He keeps halfhearted contact with their mutual friends, who have also gone their separate ways. Sometimes they get together and reminisce, but Enjolras is never there. They’re facebook friends. They send each other Christmas cards. (Enjolras doesn't.)

They’re all older now, and they've moved on, for the most part. And if sometimes Grantaire cries over photos of Combeferre’s kids or when the last of Bahorel's dogs dies, well, everyone has a hard time letting go of the past sometimes.

And it’s okay.


	2. Strings and Sealing Wax

It’s the first time they’ve all been together in years, but it’s also the last.

It’s a beautiful day for a funeral, clear and sunny despite the cold December air. None of them really know what to do with themselves. Somehow, they’ve all managed to get time off work and travel out here, and yet no one knows what to say. They’ve formed a sort of clump away from Jehan’s newer friends, those who were with him during his illness and not just following his decline on facebook. Even so, there are new faces in their group as well. Bahorel’s wife is with him, and Combeferre’s brought his youngest child.

For the most part, they stand there awkwardly as person after person describes a Jehan they don’t really know, not anymore. Courfeyrac isn’t crying anymore; he’s gone silent, and no one knows what to do because Courfeyrac is never quiet. At least, as far as they remember.

It’s how he would have wanted to go, one of the New Friends says, and the collected Amis frown, because the Jehan they knew would have wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, proclaiming his love for the world. Courfeyrac seems torn between the two groups.

They file by the casket one by one (Jehan wanted to be one with earth; that, at least, hasn’t changed) and search for something to say. Everything feels inadequate.

_Remember how you punched that police officer the first time one of our protests turned into a riot?_

_Remember when you cut my hair off and told the rest of our friends to use my pronouns because I was too afraid?_

_Remember how you used to write poetry on my arms to cover up my scars?_

_Remember that one time when we braided flowers into Enjolras’s hair while he was sleeping and he didn’t realize until he got home?_

But twenty-five years have passed since then, and there’s so much more to Jehan than the things they did when they were young and wild. The things the New Friends have said are testament to that. There’s so much more to them, as well, and they don’t fit together like they used to. Where they used to fall into easy conversation there’s tentative silence and polite how-are-yous. Where once there were casual touches and friendly hugs there are stiff handshakes and spaces between them on the benches.

Combeferre’s son has never heard of most of them.

None of them stay for the wake, and when they leave, giving their condolences to Courfeyrac, they go back to their separate worlds. When asked by their coworkers about their absence, their only explanation is that an old friend died.


	3. A valediction forbidding mourning

“Dad, I need to interview someone about a life experience and I know I should have done it sooner, but it’s due in three days and I can’t find anyone else – “

“Well I guess you’re out of luck, since you know I certainly haven’t had any life experiences.”

“ _Dad_. Can we talk about the activism stuff you used to do in college?”

“Oh man, that’s a blast from the past. I hardly remember it now.”

* * *

 

“ – and Courfeyrac; I think you met him once when we visited your aunt in Chicago; he’s the one with the bookstore – he used to own it with his husband, but he died of cancer about fifteen years ago. That was the last time I saw everyone from those days together, now that I think about it. But anyway, Courfeyrac, such a character. He used to drag us all out to these ridiculous events supporting his pet cause of the week. It drove Enjolras crazy; he wanted to focus on really serious issues – “

* * *

 

“ – and Kate’s thinking of studying abroad in Spain because she wants to live there after grad school, and Lily wants to go to Thailand.”

“Oh, I have a friend in Thailand. I’ve told you about Bossuet, right? I haven’t talked to him in years.”

“Yeah, but you guys are old. People are so much more connected these days; we’ll still be friends after we graduate.”

“I hope so.”

“Do you miss your college friends?”

“Sometimes, I guess. You move on, though. Most relationships don’t last forever.”

“That’s sad.”

“That’s life, kiddo. Us old farts can’t remember too well anyway.”


	4. A Quintessence of Dust

Courfeyrac laughs, clasping a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “I’m not appreciated here. You’ll all miss me when I’m gone!” He flounces off towards the bar to get them more drinks, and Bahorel leans back into his seat with a grin.

“We’ll all miss that ass, that’s for sure.”

Jehan blushes.

Enjolras tunes them out, leaning into Grantaire and switching his attention to Bossuet and Eponine’s conversation on the latest board of trustees decision. Grantaire smiles into his hair and tugs him closer, and Enjolras lets the noise of the bar and his friends’ laughter wash over him.

He can’t imagine life without them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I think I'm probably done with this universe? We'll see.
> 
> Also, this chapter wins hands-down for Most Pretentious Chapter Title, though the others were pretty stiff competition.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [tumblr](arokel.tumblr.com)!


End file.
